Tangled in my Web
by StandoutAnonymous
Summary: Circumstance and luck both good and bad bring the worlds of two champions together collaterally.
1. Chapter 1

Hello to all of you new readers! And to those who have seen or remember the previous version of this story, welcome back!

(I apologize for these author's notes if you dislike that kind of thing. I just like putting my thoughts down on paper.)

After a long rest period, I have not found it within myself to abandon this pair. They deserve a story, no matter how weak I create it.

The first few chapters will be very much the same. Just warning you.

_However_, I will be changing things up a lot afterwards, starting with Shen's backstory...flick... thing.

Zed had his purpose in the old one. He doesn't anymore. A revision was needed

The cathedral is dark, wet, cold, and carried an air of death and decay, giving it the feel of a crypt or tomb. Tall pillars of a dark marble rose into the roof of the cave like church, thrust together forcefully as if reluctant to be part of the monstrosity they had created, statues depicting people dying; a man lying on a bed, eyes closed, a man drowning, a man clutching his chest, face constricted in a painful grimace, a man with an axe lodged in his head like a grotesque horn. Smoke boils and swirls restlessly along the floor, whispering of pain and death. The walls are engraved with scenes of battles, and on one is a mosaic of a village burning to the ground, fire represented by gems of priceless value, the sculpture itself showing unthinkable effort and passion, each minute detail given an eternity of time so that the piece looked as if it were real.

At the end of the cathedral, on the altar, sits a man.

Is he a man?

A cloak of red, black, and grey holds his fragile body in place, emaciated hands clutching a book and a staff, a grand crown like that of a priest's sits atop his head. He is tall and thin, but he radiates power like the stench of a rotting corpse. His face is invisible accept for eyes that glow blue-green, eyes only for the book he holds like a first born child in his right hand. They stay there for a time, ceaselessly examining the book on the table before, immovable until a thunderous note cracks the deadly silence like a boulder under a giant's boot.

The figure takes his eyes from the book at last and takes in the new arrival of a creature that could not possibly be human.

Standing in the middle of the room, a centaur like no other stands tall, proud, unmoving, as if made of rock. He has no flesh, but is made of a metal shell, armor that you can tell just by looking at it is as unbreakable as the wearer's will. The armor was filled with a blue-green fire, similar to that of the other man's eyes. His legs are plated with layer upon layer of blackened steel, his side decorated with skulls, his chest the maw of death, his face a mask topped with a blade-like crescent. In his gloved hands he holds a staff topped with a sword similar to the one atop his own head. He stared up at the man on the altar, expressionless

The man spoke first "Hecarim..."

Except that when he spoke, others spoke with him, quiet and just an instant after he did so that his voice echoed through the room in a chorus of haunted whisperings.

"You came."

The centaur bent to one knee in what was unmistakably a bow. In a voice as powerful as his appearance, he replied.  
>"I did."<p>

The man on the altar stood, and ghostly light revealed his face at last. It was a skull, a skull with glowing eyes. The skeletal man shook his head.  
>"Rise my friend. You need not pay homage to me. We are equals, nothing less."<p>

Hecarim rose from his bow and spoke, "but you have a favor to ask of me, Karthus."

The Deathsinger nodded, "I do, and it is of utmost importance. Come."

he beckoned. Hecarim walked to the altar to stare at the book Karthus was holding.

"I have found an anomaly. While leafing through it, I noticed a curious standout."

"Enlighten me." the centaur relented.

Karthus laid a bony finger on one name, unique among the others. The person was fated to drown, and yet there was no date for which they would need to be brought to rest at the Shadow Iles.

"This name, Elise, whoever they are, they die, and yet they do not. The Necronomicon does not lie; it hasn't in the thousands of years of its existence. She is connected to this, I know it. I need you to find her and guard her until whenever this event is to take place. Take care of her, watch over her, see to it that she is safe until her untimely... undeath. I believe she could be another one of us."

Hecarim nodded, "where will I find her?"

"She is in Noxus. Be swift."  
>"It is what I am good at."<p>

"Yes, it is at that. At a later date, my friend."

And in an instant, Hecarim was gone, the only trace of his presence being a small wisp of smoke.

I awoke with a violent scream.

I had seen the darkness of the island, the glowing green smoke, the cathedral so tall and menacing. I had seen the thin man on the altar predicting my death, and sending that... thing after me.

Shivers rent my spine as I lay sweating in bed, clutching my pillow.

The horror of the dark cathedral and it's haunted inhabitants still clung to my mind like cobwebs of fear as I left my room, shivering. I had hoped for better on my tenth birthday, I thought. I need to clear my mind. Perhaps a bit of reading, a small snack, maybe a couple bites of cake...

I was ten. Don't laugh.

Our house was small, more of a cabin really. Barely ten feet and I was in the kitchen, book in hand, ready to pull the dregs of the nightmare from my mind. The counter was up to my chest, made of smooth concrete my dad had built himself.

He built the entire house himself.

My dad is a large man with brown, untidy hair and strange coppery eyes filled with creative light. He loved to build things; buildings, art, food, anything he could make with his bare hands. Any excuse he could make to build something, he would use it. Giving gifts to people he didn't know, sculpting and then flattening the clay so he could begin again, only buying ingredients so he could make dinner from scratch.

The only thing he loved more than building, he told me, was my mom and I. Mom is dead, I told him dispassionately. It was difficult to miss what you had never known, so this much was never difficult. He left without another word, and I heard him crying in his room. I felt terrible, causing him pain when he did everything for me, and I went in to apologize, and I found him cradling a picture of her, head pressed against the glass, eyes shut up so tight his face wrinkled. I crept up to him quietly and gave him a hug, a small one, but a hug all the same. He froze for half a second, then put the picture down and hugged me back, still crying. When he finally stopped, he kissed me on the brow gently and we left the bedroom laughing.

I never found out how mom died. My father never told me.

I thought about that as I cut a piece of cake and placed it in the center of the ceramic plate, again created by my dad. I sat down on the rocking chair in the back corner of the living room, beside the fireplace with a small candle and started my book. It was your typical fairy tale, scribbled thinly across the thick paper in my father's own handwriting. He had copied it from some story he had seen a long.. long...long time ago...

My eyes opened with a snap when I heard it; the door creaked open, slowly and quietly. Had I been sleeping?

I sat rigid, remembering the nightmare, imagining the monster creeping into our house and-  
>My dad stepped inside with a much stealth as he could muster, permanent smile replaced by worry and fear. He did not notice me as he limped towards the counter and dropped a bundle of letters onto it.<p>

Then he saw the cake.

Spinning, he saw me sitting in the chair, my eyes suspicious.  
>"Where were you?" I asked accusingly, as if I had been waiting for him.<p>

"Just... picking up some letters."

"In the middle of the night?"

"They're important letters." he said, wiping his brow clear of sweat.

"Why are you limping?"

"I fell."

I could tell he was lying. My dad's ears go red whenever he lies, and he stares just to the side of your gaze, avoiding your eyes. I was worried for him. People in Noxus didn't like us on account of our complete opposition to violence of any kind. Every man was supposed to be skilled with one weapon if not more, and my father wouldn't know what part of the sword to hold, much less how to use one. He had been threatened at the forge before because he refused to make blades, only armor, shields and other tools. Men scorned him for his weakness, and he was treated cruelly at work. I was much the same; the children at school had absorbed the hate from their parents and refused to talk to me.

At best.

It wouldn't bother me, accept that they would steal my things and tear my work, resulting in plummeting grades for a short time until I learned to hide it. My dad simply ignored his colleagues and went on with his forging. This was different. He had never been injured before, and had always come back with a smile, regardless of the abuse he suffered. Those letters must contain something bad, something deadly.

I made my way to school the next day, but dad walked with me instead of his usual seeing me off and heading to work.

"Why aren't you at work today?" I asked.

"I got the day off."

He was lying again, but I didn't confront him.

History was first, and I sat in the back left corner, hoping to avoid notice, but without success. A small ball of paper hit me and stuck, burning the back of my neck were it made contact. I jumped to me feet and screamed as I scratched and pulled at the rolled up sheet, finally tearing it from my skin only to have it burn my hand. Dropping it, I breathed heavily, chest rising and falling when I noticed the entire class was laughing and pointing. My cheeks went red, and the laughing escalated to hysterics, and the teacher tried to rein in control rather half-heartedly, perhaps a little glad my father's daughter was finally paying for my dad's weakness. Only one person wasn't laughing.

Navik.

He sat there, arm draped lazily over the back of the chair, smiling contentedly as I sat down and suffered catcalls and jeering from my classmates. Noticing my gaze on him, he allowed me a glimpse of what was in his hand. A small bottle of acid lay there, slightly concealed behind his clothes. He winked at me, and I merely stared back, not willing to show him the pain he had caused me. His eyes hardened.

School continued in such a matter over the next week. The pranks I suffered increased in number and ferocity until I had to be careful opening doors, check my chair, keep my face out of the way as I opened my personal closet containing burnt scrolls from the days previous.  
>I did not return the next week. My father understood, and was soon homeschooling me on the workings of the world. This particular evening I was learning about the politics of Ionia, a topic previously hidden to the citizens of Noxus.<p>

I giggled, "they grow beards according to their rank!?"

My father laughed, "yes. The length of their beard is cut according to their status in Ionian society."

"What if you don't want a beard, or can't grow one?"

"Only the spiritual leaders are required to have a beard. Everyone else has a badge similar to the one we use here."

"That's so weird."

"They don't seem to think so."

"How do you know so much about Ionia?"

"I lived there for a while"

"When?"

"I... I was a soldier there."

"What!?"

"Yes... And I regretted it for the rest of my life. I offered to fight for them in exchange to learn about their culture. They agreed, eager to let a Noxian who might bring about peace into their homes. During my time their I learned how their lives were, and how they abhorred violence in all of its forms. I told myself that to pay for the crimes this country and I had committed, I would live like them for the rest of my life. When I promised this, they let me into one of their secret councils and I met someone.

"That someone was your mother.

"She was beautiful beyond comparison, and just as wise and important. When she offered to return to Noxus with me, I could not refuse, only worried how I would provide for her and how I would keep her safe. We remained in Ionia for years, until, one day, you arrived. It was a dream come true for both of us, but also scared us. Such a thing had not happened in the history of Valoran, and I was afraid of how the Noxian warlords would react. It was then that the village we were in was bombed with chemicals, burning toxins that killed everything they touched. I had masks however, two of them, but when I tried to give one to her, she pushed you into my arms and told me to run.  
>Then, to stop me from following, she leaped into the pool of poison and so ended her life with the people she loved.<p>

I left with you to Noxus, shattered like glass and well beyond repair. I still remember her voice telling me to run from that god awful place, to forget her and move on. I can't. I never will."

He smiled weakly as if determined to hold on to the good cheer we had before, but tears leaked from my eyes. He patted my head and carried me off to bed in his arms, whispering how sorry he was, before tucking me in to bed and closing the door.

I spent hours staring out the window, thinking about what he had said to me and what it meant. I would have stayed there all night had I not seen something outside on the grassy hill beyond.  
>It was the monster from my dreams.<br>He stood proud and tall, large bladed staff in hand, watching me as I watched him, glowing with blue fire.  
>I blinked and he was gone.<p>

Shaking like a leaf, I waited for sleep to come. It did not.

Years passed. I grew taller with time and smarter from my father's tutoring, which was a surprising amount of knowledge for a blacksmith. Retired blacksmith I should say. He quit recently after a bad incident at the forge were he came back with a broken arm and ribs, along with a blackened eye and cracked skull. It took him weeks to heal, during which time I learned about medicine and the art of healing. A science, he said, not a religion, heals a broken man. Letters arrived at our house while he was healing, similar to the ones from years before.

They were threats on our life.

Someone had found out about his relations with Ionia then. I told him what I had seen, and he told me the threats were as empty as his stomach.  
>I took the hint and cooked him dinner.<p>

Smaller signs. People watched our house, and Navik came regularly with a group of friends to throw garbage and other filth at our home, all the while calling for me to come out and face him like a true Noxian.

I never understood what he meant by that. What a weirdo, I'd think. We celebrated my seventeenth birthday alone, as we always had, and I went out for fresh groceries from one of the only men to treat us fairly. He laughed with me for a while, wishing me luck before slipping an extra jar of honey in the cloth bag free of charge. I made my way home, whistling a happy tune, before I noticed something clinging to me sleeve.

It was a spider web.

It hung off me like so much spare lace, a glistening entanglement of diamond string, and in the middle of it sat the most extraordinary spider. Larger than normal, with its legs spread out it would be as large as my palm. It had a smooth black surface unlike the hairy spiders one would usually find, and a red mark on its back. The usual eight eyes sat in its head, but two stood out from the rest, perhaps twice the size of the others.

Like most I would have thrown it to the cobblestone ground and crushed it under my foot, but something made me hold back. It could have been the fact that I was alone, and this spider was one of the only living things the past few years to not hurt me or my dad. Maybe it was the intelligence and life that glittered in its eyes. I'll never know, but I took it home with me and hung it in the corner of my bedroom roof like some organic decoration.

Whether it was female or male I wasn't sure, but for the sake of it I assumed he was male.

Despite him being unable to respond, I would talk to him, and he would listen, or maybe just stare at me. While our house used to be full of insects, they seemed to disappear in the spider's presence.

I named him Vikan.

He was less of a pet, and more of a friend, if you know what I mean. My dad accepted the spider with enthusiasm after coming into my room while I was talking to Vikan. He said that as long as it wasn't poisonous and didn't hurt me it was fine. That night I went to sleep, and I could feel the spider's gaze.  
>It scared me a little.<p>

My dad told me that it would die down, but the torment continued. Word of our heritage must have spread, because most places now locked us out, making it difficult to purchase anything for fear of being shunned or jeered at. We began to grow our own food, and life turned even more solitary than it had before. We rarely left the house anymore. The only living things I made contact with were my father and Vikan, who had grown immensely over the span of a few months and now resembled a shiny black tarantula.

I began weaving with his webs, little silk designs I hung on my wall and off my roof, turning my room into a cocoon of white string. Vikan had no problems with my stealing of his webs; in fact, he used my weavings as ladders and substitute houses. I was well aware by now that the spider was special. He was able to take simple verbal commands and directions, like a dog, but could also read. I know because I conducted a test after I found him leaning over my shoulder while examining an old scroll on Demacian military tactics. I put a sign on the wall with the word "drop" on it in bold letters, and he did just that, falling to the floor with a small string trailing behind him to cushion his fall. I tested different commands on him, and he followed them all without question. I told my father about it; he said he was pleased and encouraged what I was doing, but I could tell he was scared. I had to admit, it was a little freaky.

"I need you to go to the forge for something." said my dad.

"What?" I answered.

"A large package, grey paper. It should be on my desk. Can you grab it and bring it right back? It's very important."

I was honored he let me handle it, as my father was the only one who went out these days. He wouldn't explain what the package was, even when I asked him, which left me a little upset that he wouldn't trust me with the information, but you can only get so much I suppose. Night was falling, so I moved as fast as possible, practically sprinting towards the big, black, smoking building that was my father's old workplace. Pushing my way through large double doors, I slipped through the grimy hallways without detection.

I spotted his work desk in one corner of a low room filled with abandoned projects; a half finished shield, a broken wrench, a helmet that had been flattened on one end by something big and square. On it was the grey package he described, very long and heavier than it looked, I hefted it into my arms with a grunt and made my way out of the forge. The sounds of pounding metal and machinery hid my footsteps and the creak of the double doors, and dark had already consumed the outside world, the only light coming from the stars and a small glow around the corner towards my house. Using the shadows as cover I made way towards it, eager to find some light in the black that was night in Noxus. I arrived to see a small courtyard with cobblestone in a circle around a fountain. The grey stone it was made of depicted a man with his head covered by a helm with wings coming off the back. In his hand he held a large broadsword that looked like it weighed as much as he did, pointing the tip at a dragon which was spewing water into the fountain below. The dragon's scales were clear to the last, and the teeth that filled it's powerful jaw were as sharp as knives. The water between the two combatants was clear and deep, and, feeling incredibly thirsty from my run, I took a step towards it.  
>Footsteps joined mine.<p>

I spun around to see Navik, grinning like a wolf before a wounded deer, and six friends, who wore black masks, making them unidentifiable. They cracked their knuckles menacingly and surrounded me and the fountain, Navik still grinning. It would have been almost comical of I wasn't the one about to be attacked, or worse.

I shivered.

"You don't have to do this..." I said, betraying the fear that coursed through me like poison.

"I don't have to," Navik replied, eyes cold as ice, "but I want to. You and your traitor of a father should have stayed in Ionia. You bring disgrace upon us all with your pathetic ways, your refusal to respect what we Noxians do. We are warriors, Elise, that's who we are meant to be. I have taken it upon myself to removed this burn from Noxian history, and so redeem a portion of my honor for allowing this to continue as long as it did. We gave you a chance and you didn't take it. Now you pay the price."

I was angry now, "you didn't give us a chance; you forced us out of society before we could even find a place to get settled in to a place that suited us. Peace has been restored between Ionia and Noxus. Why can't peace be restored between us?"

I held out my hand.

He reached out slowly and took it, his friends watching him closely.  
>A pull on my arm and I was face first in the cobblestone, elbows bruised and laughter ringing in my ears. The only one not laughing was Navik. His face was hard as he looked down on me, a hate ingrained so deep I knew nothing I could say would ever change his mind. I tried to get up, but a boot connected with my face, and I collapsed onto my back, blood and tears blinding me as pain shocked through my broken nose. I opened my eyes to see the seven of them leaning over me, predatory, eager.<p>

Evil.

Hands grabbed my shoulders and dragged me towards the fountain, and my feeble struggles did little to free myself from their deadly grasp. My knees connected with the concrete edge hard, and I heard them crack as I was bent over the clear water. Navik spoke-

"The only peace one should find is in death. Remember that."

A hand pushed my head into the water.

Cold.

I kicked my captors, beating against them with all of my strength, growing desperate.

Cold.

But my strength was ebbing, and theirs was not. I opened my mouth to breath, but I all I got was water, and I choked as even more joined the liquid that had already made its way into my lungs.

Cold.

The world had gone black at the edges, I burned for air, but I accepted my fate without argument. There was no use writhing ceaselessly against death, which already had its claim upon me. I closed my eyes and silently said sorry to my father, for leaving him alone in this world.

The pressure relieved from the back of my head, and I snapped into the open air, taking great big mouthfuls of precious oxygen before I even realized what was happening.

Screaming.

Terrible screaming, the awful sound of a blade cutting clean through flesh, blue green light, a furious roar of a monster bent on slaughter, "BEHOLD THE MIGHT OF SHADOW ILES.", a splash of something hot across my cheek,  
>and silence.<p>

I waited for perhaps a minute, curled in a ball, before opening my eyes and taking in my surroundings.  
>I stared for a moment, then vomited my dinner all over the ground, unable to remove the sight from my mind even to this day.<p>

The courtyard had been bathed in blood. Nothing remained untouched by the mess of red. The water in the fountain itself had turned a dark shade of purple and the knight's broadsword was dripping with the dark red liquid. But that was not the worst of it. Torn bodies lay scattered about, cleaved in half, chopped to little pieces, crushed to a pulp, or simply evaporated by some unknown force. Navik's severed head lay beside what remained of his body, still contorted with fear.

I collapsed, still retching from the horrible sight. I was still lying there when the sound of many people running rung throughout the courtyard. And then even more awful screaming.

"MY CHILD!"

"Oh god..."

"What happened here?!"

"Elise."

"The girl must be responsible."

"Be reasonable Kav...

"He's right..."

"Elise!"

"We need to investigate."

"Has anyone identifies the deceased?"

"Oh no... Not my baby... Please... No..."

"ELISE!"

I raised my head.


	2. Chapter 2

My vision was blurred, but I could make out the smudge of colour that was my father.

"Da...dad?"

"Yes, it's me. Listen, we have to go. Can you stand?"

I tried to lift myself up but crumpled, too weak to stand. He put his arms under my shoulders and lifted me up gently, supporting me as I found my footing. A single arm swept downward to pick up the long package, now soaked in red. The Noxian military had arrived, and were examining the corpses when me and my dad left for home, unoccupied hand around me as I limped my way across the street.

"We have to leave."

I had woken up the next morning, or climbed out of bed after being tortured by nightmares, to see my dad packing clothes, food, and the picture of my mother into a small chest.  
>"But..."<p>

"No buts. I'm sorry Elise, but it's not safe for us here anymore. You are being blamed for what happened last night: people are calling you a witch and they want you killed. There is clear proof that it wasn't your fault, but there was prejudice against us in the first place. What they'll do if they catch you I don't know, but if they don't burn or hang you they'll force you to work for the army. I won't let that happen."

I wasn't too upset. Noxus had been a living hell the last few years, and I would be glad to leave.  
>"Where will we go?"<p>

"Ionia. They may still recognize me, and I hope they'll let us in. There is a boat arriving an hour from now, a merchant's ship heading there with a large cargo of spice as well as a small space for passengers. I have money, and the ship should have ample space. If not, we can offer to work as sailors until we reach the island. All that remains is to grab our stuff and get out of here."

I nodded and then went to my room, already forming an idea of what I would bring. I plucked Vikan from the wall and tucked him in my pocket, were he stayed with his head poking out like some grotesque baby. Ignoring my weavings, I grabbed a couple changes of clothes and some personal possessions of which there were few; a polished rock I found in the market, a soap carving my father made, and so on. Stuffing it all unceremoniously into a backpack I hurried out the door and into the kitchen. There my father was waiting, already prepared for our departure. He was holding the package I had run for the night previous, it's identity now revealed. It was a long sword, polished to perfection and forged without a single flaw and artistic inspiration rarely seen in weapons. I had seen that kind of craftsmanship before.

My father had made it.

He nodded at me and made his way towards the door, sheathing the blade with practiced ease. I followed briskly, hitching the pack as I left our home for the last time.

We put on hoods to hide our faces from prying eyes, since it was the middle of the day, if clouded over. Bypassing the market without a second glance, ignoring the calls of eager vendors and merchants, we eyed the harbor that was now barely a mile away. Progress was slow through the dirty streets of Noxus, as we had to keep hidden from soldiers who were roaming the streets in numbers greater than usual. I suspected they were on the lookout for us, as they had surely found out we were missing by now. It was amazing what they would do to catch us.

"Not long now..." my father said, talking to himself as much as to me. We turned a corner only to collide with a group of three soldiers.

"Hey! You there! Watch where you're going"

"Of course." my dad said, hand on his sheathed sword. One of the soldiers stepped forward and grabbed his arm.

"What is your business here anyways?"

"Only passing through."

They looked suspicious. "While carrying a weapon?"

"These are dangerous times."

The soldiers brought out their blades with the ominous screech of metal against metal.  
>"Take off your hood." they said harshly.<br>"...Very well"  
>My father reached up to the back of his head, then whipped out his sword almost too fast to see and brought it down on the middle soldier's head, killing him instantly. The others were so shocked that they didn't even react as he kicked one of them in the chest, knocking him to the ground. Spinning his blade in a silver whirlwind, he landed five swift blows on his enemy's sword before running him through the heart with a sickening slick. The last soldier was barely fought back. Even as he got up, my father bashed the blade from his hand and cleaved his head off.<p>

I gaped.

Wiping the blood off on one of their tunics, he returned the sword to its sheath.  
>"I learned a trick or two in the Noxian military."<p>

"Yes you did."

He looked around at the mess he had made before waving me forward with his hand, "let's get moving."  
>We ran into only one soldier on our way to the boat, who my father knocked out from behind. The sea breeze threatened to remove our hoods as we traversed the crowded docks, water splashing through the cracks in the wood and soaking our feet. The blue water had gone dark, and thunderheads were gathering on the horizon, the signs of a storm. Someone growled angrily as we brushed past, but we paid them no heed and kept on our way.<p>

"There she is." my father said, pointing.

It was a large ship, with a dragon a opposed to the usual mermaid on the prow, large white sails and newly polished wood on the outside. Barrels were being loaded on a ramp that led up to the deck of the ship, where a group of sailors were waiting to receive them. They laughed kindly at their comrade when he accidentally dropped one of the caskets into the ocean, cheering him on as he dived into the water to retrieve it. As he climbed out of the water, lugging the barrel behind him, my father slipped between two merchants and tapped the soaked sailor on the shoulder. The man looked up, confused.

"Listen," my father whispered, barely audible over the noise of the crowded dock ,"my daughter and I need passage to Ionia. Your ship is due there, yes?"

The man nodded.

"I can pay a handsome price if you so require, and all we need is food, drink, and a place to sleep as you make way. We can find our own path once we make it there."

"I would say yes," the sailor said with a shrug, "but I'm not in charge. The fellow you want is there." he pointed to a thin man wearing a long button up coat and a black tricorn hat who was clearly the leader from the way the people on the ship parted way for him and accepted his orders without question. "He's a good man; as long as it's a fair price, he'll help you across the ocean."  
>Thanking him, we made way to the deck of the ship where we bumped directly, and I mean this literally, into the man in the tricorn hat.<p>

"Aye!? Watch where you're going, mate!"

The man's voice was surprisingly strong for someone of such thin statue.

"Speaking of which, what are you doing on my ship?"

We knelt, as is custom in Noxus to one of higher status than yourself, or if you wish to honor similar person. The man seemed to respect the gesture, straightening his hat and nodding. My father told him what we needed, and held out a bag of coins, shaking it so that it clinked slightly.  
>The man regarded him, then replied, "I won't charge an honest man for something as easy to supply as passage to a Ionia."<br>He pushed the bag away towards my father.

"Come inside, my friend. We make way within the hour."

Placing his arm around my father's shoulder he led him into the captain's quarters.

"My name's Jake. Captain Jake if you so wish." he said, pouring a glass of clear water for me and handing wine to my father before picking up some of his own.

"I've seen my fair share of weird folk on these docks, and many others beside. I take them were they need going, with only one request."

He leaned forward, and I could sense an eager grin under the tricorn hat.  
>"Tell me your story. I swear I won't tell a soul; I can respect a man's secrets. I like to hear a good tale of adventure every once in a while."<p>

The ship began to rock as it parted from the harbor, the yelling of soldiers and the unfurling of sails in the wind cutting through the previous hubbub. My father was staring at the table, hand on his chin as he pondered Captain Jake's request.  
>"This is not my tale to tell."<p>

Jake leaned back, clearly disappointed.

"It's hers."

The front tip of the hat turned to point directly at my forehead as the captain placed his gaze on me.  
>My dad put a hand on my shoulder, and spoke in a gentle tone, "I don't want to pressure you, but this man has given us much for little, and if this is all he asks, I think we should give it to him. You can have some time to think about it if you want."<p>

I spoke for the first time, voice cracking slightly, "I'll tell you our story Jake, but I warn you, we'll be here for a while."  
>He shook my hand with a vigor that scared me.<p>

I spent the next hour or so reviewing my life story to this near complete stranger, including the slaughter in the courtyard. My father gripped the chair so tightly his hands were white as I described the attack and how I was nearly killed, shivering while I told him about the sounds I heard while I was on the ground. I summarized our trip to the boat in a few minutes, then finished with a slight sob.  
>Jake didn't move for the next minute, surprising me slightly when he broke the silence.<p>

"You say you heard, 'Behold the might of the Shadow Isles'?"  
>I nodded.<p>

"As well as blue-green light?"  
>I nodded again.<p>

"You're sure?"  
>A third time.<p>

"And the bodies were cleaved into pieces..." He pondered it for a while.  
>"Do you know something?" My father asked.<p>

"... Only small pieces of information. Rumors, stories, the whole bit. What you described matches a very similar little tale told by a rather covered up Demacian commander, who is now quite mad. Whatever it was, it's not human, not even close, and quite powerful. His identity is a mystery, but death follows in its wake. It kills with impunity. Men of the sea like myself know the stories well. The people that these events happen around aren't just anyone, mind you."

He stared directly at me, as if trying to see through fogged glass.  
>"Who are you?"<p>

A minute passed before my father stood and explained how me and him needed rest and where we would find a place to do so. A couple seconds passed before Jake responded.

"Yes, of course. Just down below deck, near the prow of the ship. I trust you know where that is?"  
>"We do. Thank you for your hospitality"<p>

"You are most welcome, Cailus."

It was only when I was settled in my hammock, rocking with the movement of the boat, when I realized my father hadn't told Captain Jake his name.

Thunder woke me from my slumber. I leaned forward on my elbow, trying to keep my balance in the swaying hammock, as the swaying of the ship had increased in force. The light patter of rain against the deck clashed with the sound of rolling dice. I leaned over my bed to see who was playing, and found my father, cross legged on the floor, spinning the little cube between his fingers.

"Good... evening?" I said.

"Something like that. It's about twelve at night." he replied, still concentrated on the dice. He was troubled, that much I could tell. Was he afraid?

"Is a storm coming?"

"I don't know. The Captain said it might go around us, but he isn't sure. We should be prepared for the possibility however. Are you feeling sick?"  
>I wasn't, strangely enough.<br>"No. Doesn't seem to bother me too much."

"Well then you are one lucky girl" he said, his face green. I laughed.

We spoke about life in Ionia again. I was eager to listen about what our new home would be like, the people, the customs, everything my father could tell me. I didn't want to seem out of place, and it seemed only right that I should make an effort to become one of them in all but body. It felt like with every word I heard, my old life was being deleted, removed from me like a scab.

"It wasn't all the blazing glory and bloody battlefields that the Council told us it would be. None of the easy slaughter the men had been promised. Make no mistake; the Ionians loved peace with a passion, but they were well prepared for war. I won't lie to you. Both sides were brutal to each other, though Noxus was the worst. We had the chemicals, the weapons, the war machines. Collateral damage was an easy thing for the army, and extermination was perhaps the best word for it. But when night fell, and myself and the other soldiers slipped ever so quietly into our bags...

Have you ever heard of Ninjas?"

I looked up, perplexed, "of course. Those guys in black bathrobes who beat on trees all day?"

He laughed, but his eyes were dark. "I suppose Noxus would want to keep that kind of information hidden." he sighed.

"You see, this was a kind of warfare we had never fought before. It always happened during the night, when we weren't aware. Cowardly as it may seem, this kind of thing was no simple feat. They wore black armor, soft shoes that made no noise, blades so sharp and quick they say you wouldn't know you were dead until your head hit the floor. They came upon us out of the darkness, cut men down without a sound, and left just as quick. Catching them was like trying to catch your shadow with a flashlight. A group of ten ninjas slaughtered our squad of nearly two hundred in under twelve hours. An entire army, gone. I was one of six who survived."

I listened in a terrified silence. It wasn't often my father would speak of his time in the war.

"I fought one of them. Dressed like the others except for a single gold mark on his helmet, our battle lasted for barely twenty seconds. He wove a tapestry of whirling metal so fast and precise I had no time to think, only defend the beating of my heart to the last breath.

"In the end, he disarmed me. I could feel the tip of his blade as he darted it under my throat, his empty eyes watching my own.

"He waited. For what I will never know: perhaps he thought I would beg for mercy, or spit an insult at him, perhaps even fight back. I did not do any of this. A battle is a battle, I knew, and if I was going to die, I would do it with dignity.

He told me, then-"

The ship lurched, throwing my father to the ground, and tossing me out of my hammock. I landed on the wooden deck hard, and I knew I would have some nasty bruises. My father lay on his back, chuckling.  
>"Nasty storm out there, no?"<p>

"Want to go see?" I said, eager.

"We should stay inside. It's too dangerous out there"

"Come on..."

"No. On this I am adamant. Go back to bed, Elise, I'll see you in the morning."

"Won't you finish your story?"

"Oh, alright. Get yourself comfortable then."

I was climbing back in my bed when I heard creaking on the stairs. It was quick, as if the person were in a great hurry. My dad had just began to speak when the voice of our friend Jake interrupted him, urgent.

"Come with me. Leave your things. We need to get out of here, now!"

"Captain Jake?" I asked, "what's wrong?"

"No time to explain. Go!"  
>A cold hand gripped my wrist and pulled me towards the stairs with surprising strength. By the sound of bumping and scraping and tripping I could tell my father was coming along as well. Without warning the ship rocked violently, sending us to the ground. I hit it hard, landing in a pool of cold liquid.<br>Cold liquid?  
>I put my finger in it, and realized it is seawater.<p>

Oh boy.

Jake lifted me up, carrying me to my feet.  
>"Get to the lifeboats, quickly.<br>I sprinted up the stairs and into the open air.

It was a warzone.

The ocean is fighting against the blackened sky in a brutal contest of strength, and our little boat is caught in the middle. Waves crash over the deck, covering the panicking crew with frigid water, rain pounds on the ship, thunder and lightning cracking and booming all the while. My father and the captain both rise from below the deck and scramble to help the struggling sailors. Jake yells orders and they fight to get the boat under control, but to no avail. Pitching sideways, a pair of sailors are thrown overboard. The crew goes to get ropes, but Jake sends them back to the sails, yelling over the wind that it's no use.  
>I no time to grab my belongings, and I didn't care, but I remembered I had forgot Vikan, who was still on my hammock. I booked it, but my father was already there.<p>

"What are you doing?" He asked, incredulous.

"Vikan! He's still in the hull!" I had to yell over the sound of the storm, and even then I was barely audible. My dad's hair was flailing in the wind as he stared me down.

"Forget your stupid spider! We have to leave!"  
>"No!"<p>

"You don't have a choice!"

I pushed past him, charging at the stairs, ignoring his yells as I tripped down the steps. I landed with a splash in the pool of water that had gathered below deck, which was rising at a disturbing pace. Wading through the water, I made it to my pack and found Vikan, trembling slightly with all eight legs, sitting in my pants pocket. I unceremoniously stuffed him in my shirt and half walked half swam through the water that had risen to my waist during the short time I was down there. I had to climb out of it as I made my way up the stairs once again, assisted by my furious if relieved father.

"Never" he gasped, "do that again."  
>I nodded, too exhausted for words.<p>

"HEY!" Someone yelled.  
>We stared as one at Captain Jake, who was gesturing wildly.<br>"MOVE!"

Alarm shot through my father's face, and I heard a creaking at the base of the mast before it came crashing down on both us.

Pain...  
>The shattered log that had been the mast lay on my legs, having crushed them both. I could barely move, barely breath, could do nothing but sit still until the pain ended. I did not have the strength to push the log from myself. I remained flat on my back, clutching my hips and whimpering from the awful pain as rain fell relentlessly on my face and chest.<p>

I opened my eyes from the grimace of agony that had constricted my features moments ago, and they fell upon the broken form of my father.

The mast may have hit only my legs, but it had landed directly across my dad's back, and he wasn't moving. His head was bent at an unnatural angle where the sail had collided with it, and a pool of blood had gathered around his face.

"Dad...?" I asked hesitantly.  
>He didn't reply.<p>

"Dad?"

Silence.

"Dad!"  
>I pleaded and screamed, but my father lay still, not responding. A shook him, ignoring my legs, still screaming when hands grabbed me by the arms and dragged me gently across the deck of the ship. I fought with all my strength, because it couldn't be possible, it wasn't possible.<br>My father wasn't dead!

"LET ME GO!"

"Elise, listen, there's nothing we can do now-"

"NO!"

Water soaked my clothes as the ocean ate up the ship. Waves crashed over the sides, and a fist of water smashed into me, jerking me away from my savior. I got one last image of the cold black liquid consuming my father, when the ship keeled over and I slid, helpless as a child, into the violent sea.

I was freezing, hurting, suffocating in the depths of the cruel ocean that had claimed my past, my present my future.  
>And my father.<br>I had no strength to fight my way to the surface, no spirit left in me. I barely felt the burning in my lungs or the sharp pain in my broken legs. I gasped once in a weak attempt at breath, and the water filled my mouth, choking my crying sobs beneath the sea. Nothing left to live for.  
>And the darkness came rushing in at last.<p>

I woke up spluttering and coughing, hands deep in the sand beneath my chest.  
>I woke?<br>It was surprising enough to be alive, much less on a beach, or wherever I was. I lay flat on my back, too weak to do anything but breath. The stars stared down at me, twinkling slightly in the brilliant cloudless night sky. A warm breeze caressed my cheek, and I felt relaxed. I finally realized that the pain in my legs was gone. What happened? Was I dead?

"Not quite." a voice like the rumbling of a mountain, powerful and commanding, but cold.  
>I raised my eyes barely, and laid eyes on a monster.<p>

He was a centaur, like those from myth and legend, but he was like no centaur she had ever seen. He stood a good seven feet tall, and appeared to be encased in metal adorned with skulls that glowed with blue-green flame from within. He carried a long steel staff with a curved blade on the top, like the dying moon. The centaur was watching me with a look of amusement on his iron features.  
>"You are awake."<p>

"...yes..." I said, scared.  
>He walked over to me lying in the sand, his hooves leaving burning tracks the same colour as the fire that raged inside his metal shell.<br>"Than we can move."

"Wh-what?"  
>I felt him reach down towards me, and I made an attempt at scrambling away, but his glove of a fist gripped my shirt, firm but careful, and lifted me as if I weighed no more than a baby onto his back.<br>"Hold on." he said, sparing me a glance over his shoulder, before we took off at a pace faster than anything she had seen before, beast or machine. I would have had trouble holding on with all my strength, and I only stayed on his back by gripping the spikes on the pads of his armor.  
>I was absolutely terrified.<p>

"You are afraid." he said matter-of-factly.  
>"y-yes." I stuttered.<p>

"I understand. You have been torn from your home after that incident with the human boy and his like minded friends, have traveled across half an ocean only to lose hope once again, as well as your only family and companion, unless you count the spider, Vikan."  
>I was angry and shocked about how much he knew, and my anger gave me more courage than I would have had otherwise.<p>

"How do you know about all that?" I asked accusingly.  
>We turned sharply on the edge of a cliff, before heading straight for a fog covered forest that flashed and hummed with small lights.<p>

"We have been watching you for some time now, Elise." he said flatly.  
>"What!?"<p>

He stopped suddenly, almost throwing me off balance, and leaving slight skid marks in the black dirt. Reaching back behind his head, he lifted me off his back and set me on my own two feet, upon which I promptly fell over.  
>"You've been watching me?" I said, brushing dirt of my elbows.<br>"Yes."  
>"Why?"<br>"All will be answered in time."

I tried to get the strange creature to talk again, but he remained silent, watching.  
>The wall of fog parted, like drapes being pulled back, and the scene behind them changed completely. What had once been a dark forest became a large church like building made of black stone, with a high roof topped with spikes. The double doors were ringed with skulls that drooled ghostly light, light that seemed to have weight to it, like a heavy mist. I remembered it vaguely from somewhere, like a dangerous animal your parents had warned you about as a child but you had forgotten almost completely.<p>

The centaur walked towards it slowly.  
>"Come." he said. It was an order, not a request.<p>

I followed him, cautious and jumpy.  
>As we approached, the doors cracked open without clear prompting, like the jaws of a monster.<br>We made our way inside.

The cathedral was chilly within, like a room found underground, with pillars of shiny black marble and with a floor made of the same material that was slippery, like ice. There were paintings on the walls and statues near the pillars, all depicting death, gruesome or not.

I have seen this place before, I thought, as I have seen the centaur.  
>But where?<p>

I followed along behind the monster, keeping my distance, until we arrived on front of a raised platform, perhaps a foot or two above the floor, and as wide as the room. Stairs rose up to it, and a large ornate pedestal stood, with a book sitting on it, wide open. The book gave me the creeps. It was like watching a graveyard in the middle of the night; you know it's harmless, but you get this funny feeling...

"Welcome."

The voice came from all around, with no source except the walls and the ceiling. Whispers echoed it's dread call, making it reverberate throughout the room, both quiet and loud. It was a voice that had not been used in a long time, and it's cracking, unfamiliar tone confirmed that very suspicion.  
>Mist began to gather from the floor onto the platform like water flowing in reverse, gathering in front of the pedestal in a column of wispy fog.<p>

Then the mist solidified into the a thick cloud, and then into the form of a man.

He wore robes of black, grey, and red, and he carried a staff in his long thin fingers. The staff was topped with a grey and blue spire. He had a long crown, like that of a priest, atop his head, the same color as his robes.

His face was a skull with glowing green eyes, framed by long white hair.  
>He extended a hand.<p>

"Welcome Hecarim, you have done most exemplary in protecting our guest"  
>His gaze fell on my face, and I could feel it, like the tip of a blade.<p>

"Welcome Elise, daughter of the deceased Marilda and Cailus."

"I have waited a long, long time for this."


End file.
